Tokens
by Wallwalker
Summary: [Polyfic] Celes could only assume that Jidoor had gone mad, in a particularly tacky and flowery sort of way.


Upon a cursory inspection of the impromptu open market that stretched out before her in the street, Celes could only assume that all of Jidoor had gone mad in a very tacky, very flowery way. She had visited the city on more than one occasion prior to this, and while it had always seemed oddly pretentious and overly fancy, it had never been quite like _this._ People were everywhere, dressed in a thousand shades of red and pink, all of them trimmed with gold and silver. None of them seemed inclined to raise their voices, and yet the sound of it was deafening, all of the whispers and girlish giggles combining in an assault on her senses. The entire place was decorated with roses and lilies and flowers that she did not recognize - what would she know of them, after all? - and the smell of chocolate and other sweets was strong in the air.

The effect was overpowering. Celes gave serious consideration to turning away and finding somewhere quieter, and had just made up her mind to do so when she felt Setzer's hand on her shoulder. "I suppose that you don't find this decadence appealing, Celes?" she heard him say behind her, with a chuckle.

"Honestly, no," she said, her eye momentarily caught by a man in an utterly ridiculous costume, all white and trimmed with red and silver hearts. He carried a bouquet of roses in his arms as he started to hurry past; the ridiculous thing was twice as large as his own head. "I would call it insanity."

"Of course." Setzer let go of her shoulder and moved to her side, then deftly reached out and plucked two roses from the hurrying man's bouquet as if it were nothing. Both of them were as red as blood on snow. "Just as mad as love itself."

Celes frowned as he offered her the red rose, but reached out and took it all the same. "You say that this is tradition?"

"Yes, a very old one, as a matter of fact - although I understand that it wasn't nearly so civilized several centuries ago. It involved a great many trials. Shows of strength and ferocity - with swords, mostly."

"Interesting." Celes raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you might find it so. But for my part, my dear, I'd rather have flowers and candies than duels." He shook his head, brushed his hair from his eyes. The impish gleam in his eye that she'd noticed from the first time he'd suggested that they come to this festival had not yet faded. Celes had to wonder what was going on in his head; she knew him more than well enough to know that he was up to something. "Now, if only your counterpart would appear..."

Celes smiled faintly. "I wouldn't be surprised if this crowd tempted him into old habits," she said.

"Why, Celes. Surely you don't think him as weak as that?" But the mock disapproval in his voice fade quickly into laughter. Both of them knew that Locke was smarter than that - if he was caught picking a pocket or two in a crowd like this, well, it would be all three of them who paid. Of course, that was only if he was caught - and Celes, for her part, was not going to condemn him as long as he wasn't, not in this crowd. She didn't know about Setzer, but she would dare say that he agreed with her.

And there was the man himself, shabby even in his best leathers in comparison to the crowds, his blue bandanna still tied around his head. He grinned sheepishly and waved to them as he approached.

"Ah, there you are!" Setzer smiled as Locke approached, and held out his other hand - the hand that still held the other rose he had snatched from the stranger's bouquet. "Here, take this, won't you?"

"Huh? Um, sure," Locke said, momentarily puzzled. He took it from the gambler's hand, grasped it in his fist in confusion. "Sorry it took me a while, but they had the main road blocked off. I had to take the back way."

"Yes, the procession will be starting soon. If you think that _this_ is madness, Celes, I'm sure you'll find that to be nothing less than pandemonium." Something in his smile, Celes thought, brought to mind memories of the bargain he'd tried to make with her so long ago - or was it the conniving gleam in his eyes? "I insist that we go and see at least the beginning of it, if only to make you two appreciate the peaceful atmosphere of the _Blackjack_ a bit more."

"Why? What do they do?"

"Oh, you'll see." Setzer winked at him before he led them both away, one hand pressed into the small of Celes's back, the other draped companionably over Locke's shoulders.

The main street was even more crowded than the marketplace. Celes hadn't thought it possible; she'd thought that Setzer's comment about pandemonium was mere hyperbole, but she had seen battlefields that had given her less trouble than that crowd of milling women in brilliant red dresses, and men in their finest waistcoats and tails. Even Setzer, in his leather traveling coat and cravat, seemed out of place among them. "I'm surprised that you didn't dress for the occasion," she said, murmuring the words in his ear so that he would be able to hear.

He grinned. "I used to quite enjoy doing just that. But I swore off years ago."

"So what's going to happen here, anyway?"

"A parade, my dear. A procession of lovers. See that platform over there, the one decorated with roses and lace?" He pointed off to the side, and there was indeed a platform that stood on gilded wheels, surrounded by men and women in red velvet capes. Three perfect white stallions stood ready to draw it down the open street. "Those in charge of such things are coming to gather up lovers and parade them through the town. It's a celebration of a sort, you see."

"Hm." Locke frowned. "How're they going to find lovers? Seems like they'd just have to put everyone on that platform."

"They have their ways."

Before Celes could turn back and ask what the blazes he meant by that, she felt a hand on her arm and tensed, ready to strike - then saw that it was only a woman in a red dress, decorated with more hearts than she'd thought capable of fitting on one garment. "Oh, another pair of lovers!" she cooed, looking pointedly at Celes's hand - and then she realized that she was really looking at the rose in her left hand. "And what perfectly beautiful love tokens! You must've been searching for the perfect roses for _days!_"

"Tokens?" Locke started to stammer. "We didn't... I mean, we were just... they were given to us by -"

Celes, who had been taught enough of diplomacy to realize that Locke was on the verge of a dreadful faux pas, took his hand - an innocent-looking gesture - and squeezed it tightly enough that she saw him wince a bit in pain. "Thank you," she said loudly, and shot him a look that she hoped would shut him up. "We are honored."

The young woman beamed and lifted one hand. "Gentlemen! I've found another couple for the procession! Oh, this is going to be the best one in years!"

Celes felt something on her shoulders, looked around to see that they had laid a cloak made of red velvet there; it clashed horribly with her pale green linen, but she said nothing. Locke seemed about to say something when they did the same to him, but another squeeze of his hand kept him silent.

As the strangers led them to the rose-covered platform, Celes looked back and found Setzer's amused face in the crowd, and fixed him with a glare that she hoped would freeze him in his tracks... but he just smiled and gave her a jocular wave in return.

She should have known that she wouldn't disturb him. She never could.

Really, she felt sorrier for Locke than anything else. He liked to brag that he was good at blending in with crowds, but she didn't think that the large group of giggling people with red roses was the sort of crowd that he'd had in mind. She stayed close to him, and kept a tight grip on his hand.

Soon the air was full of the music of flutes and harps, and the horses whinnied as men urged them onward. The procession pressed on, the people below cheering as they moved through the mad, mad streets, tossing confetti and flowers in the air and singing snatches of songs that Celes didn't recognize, but that she was sure were about love.

"Why do I get the feeling that we were just set up?" Locke whispered in her ear, sounding a bit calmer.

"Because we were," she replied curtly, although the ridiculousness of it all made it difficult for her to stay angry about it. She made a mental note to ask Setzer what this was about later, but for now it seemed best to try to relax.

* * *

It wasn't until much later, when they'd flown away from Jidoor and had stopped for the evening on a cozy, remote island, that Celes remembered to ask exactly what had happened.

They were in the sitting room, all three of them resting - Setzer lounging on one of his couches, Locke slumped in a chair, Celes leaning against the wall. She could see that the men were both tired; she was all right, at least for the moment, but it was rather late, and soon it would be time for them to sleep. Usually they would talk for a bit before going off to their chambers - together or alone, depending on their mood, and Celes honestly hadn't been able to read Setzer's mood since they'd left Jidoor. He looked almost melancholy, except that he didn't seem sad at all.

Locke sat up before Celes could find the words to frame the question, and regarded Setzer curiously. "You okay?"

"Hmm." He sat up, stretched his arms, settled himself in the middle of the leather-covered couch. "It's been an eventful day."

"For us, maybe. Seems it wasn't quite so much for you." Locke cocked his head to one side, the way he did when he found a puzzle that he just couldn't work out. "So what was that whole parade about, anyway?"

Celes cleared her throat, and both of the men immediately turned to look at her. "The woman that took us to join it said that it was a procession of lovers," she said. "Was that all it was?"

"Of course. That was the entire point." He pulled something out of his waistcoat pocket - a red rose petal, she saw - and rubbed it absently between his fingers. "You'll remember that I mentioned that there were once duels during the festival. You see, in the old days, men fought over women during the Festival, and gave them tokens of their affection - red roses, mostly - before going off to their deaths."

"Like the ones that you gave us," Celes interjected.

"Exactly. Of course, the duels were no laughing matter - men often died in them. You may think that we Jidoorians are a great lot of pansies, dear Celes, but if we are it is only because the truly violent ones removed themselves from our lineage long ago." He sighed. "But the granting of tokens remained, even after the duels were outlawed... and it has been a long time since I've had someone during the festival season to give such things to. I was just having a bit of fun at your expense, truth be told."

"And you didn't get anything, because we didn't know." Locke's lips curled up in a half-smile. "You should've told us, Setzer."

"Don't be ridiculous. I haven't complained, have I?" Setzer brushed his long platinum hair from his eyes and regarded them both with a smile that seemed too soft for his angular face. "There's such a thing as too much greed."

"Then I suppose that you don't want any such tokens now?" Celes asked with mocking seriousness, taking his hand.

Setzer chuckled. "Oh, I hardly said _that._"

Celes and Locke exchanged glances, then stood up and joined Setzer on the couch, leaning against him as he embraced them both.


End file.
